


burning with these mysteries

by la_victorienne



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-27
Updated: 2008-02-27
Packaged: 2018-10-16 00:42:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10560488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_victorienne/pseuds/la_victorienne





	

“...and I wouldn't change that for the world.”

Ianto has the time to recognize that this is as close as Jack will come to offering an apology and as close as Ianto himself will ever get to receiving a declaration of love before his body makes the decision for him to lean forward and accept Jack's unspoken invitation. And with the kiss, he is saying “yes, yes, I want you too, I hated you when you left and I can't stop hating you now, you sick bastard, more, more, don't ever leave me again,” and he can taste Jack saying “no, no, I'm too broken for you, I came back for you and only you no matter what I say or do, you are too good for me and too beautiful for this, I'll have you forever if I have my way.” And Jack is clutching him as if it will kill him to let go and Ianto is going to fall over in a moment if he doesn't stand up or sit down, one of the two but that doesn't matter because Jack is already standing to push him against the wall and lick a burning trail down his neck and with a fancy bit of footwork it is Ianto who is sucking a bruise in the hollow of a pulse point just underneath Jack's jaw, not stopping, not even registering Jack's ineffectual plucking at his suit jacket. Jack is hoarsely calling out his name and Ianto's cock is rock hard and straining against his pants but he won't stop because this is _punishment_ , this is, and Ianto drops to his knees without a word and opens Jack's trousers more deftly than he's ever done before and hello, here's something they've both missed more than either of them is willing to admit. Ianto's mouth is hot and twisted tight and Jack's hand is trying to hold on to Ianto's hair but it's too short and there's a graze of teeth on the underside and his hips are pistoning until one slender, strong, talented hand pushes him back, holds him down and how does Ianto manage _that_ sensation he'll have to ask later and oh, _god_.

Ianto's got a smile on his face like a cat with the cream and the canary too, and if he were John Hart Jack would punch him in the mouth but he's not, he's Ianto, he's gentle and tender and oh so very twenty-first century human and all Jack wants to do is kiss that smirk away. And he does, or tries to, pulling Ianto up his body by the cheeky man's tie, crumpling the silk carelessly in his fingers, the same fingers that will push inside, stretch Ianto open, flick that spot just to see the pretty Welsh face contortions, the same fingers that are rumpling Ianto's lapel just trying to get the damn coat off right this minute.

“Oh, no, you don't,” Ianto's rounded voice says against Jack's lips and Jack could come again, off on the accent and the low rumble in his belly that matches the vowels and they way they taste, the way Ianto tastes when he is full of him, that tang there behind Ianto's left molar, that's _him_. Ianto manhandles him down the ladder, shuts the door, to hell with the rest of the world, Torchwood is fucking _off-duty_ now.

And when they wake up in the morning, tangled together on Jack's narrow bed and Jack brings them off together instead of letting Ianto collect a change of clothes from his secret stash in the archives Ianto protests a little until Jack finds a creative way to shut him up.

“If you think anyone will notice you're _wrong_ ,” Jack asserts before tugging on Ianto's earlobe with his teeth, before bucking against Ianto's hips with his own. And Jack is right, because when he brings everyone their morning coffees (and Tommy his beloved tea, the poor 1918 boy) no-one says anything about the slight wrinkle in his collar or looks closely enough to see the shirt and tie are the same as yesterday, not that it would surprise any of them if they did. And if when Jack grabs his ass as he's climbing into the SUV Gwen wonders about the smirk on his face, well, that's perfectly fine with Ianto because the boss is well and truly back, and Ianto's not about to let anyone call him a part-time shag now. Next week he'll take Jack back home to his flat and they'll christen the masculine bed with all the masculine ideas they can think of and even if Jack does flirt with everything that has a pulse and even if Jack does hold Gwen on a pedestal it is Ianto he'll come home to, Ianto he'll smile at so brilliantly, Ianto he'll apologize to and Ianto he'll love. It is Ianto he will keep, and Ianto who will keep him.


End file.
